


too many flowers

by venndaai



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, F/F, POV Second Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22699384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venndaai/pseuds/venndaai
Summary: Her hand’s not getting worse.It isn’t.
Relationships: Female Cadash/Sera, Female Inquisitor/Sera
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	too many flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skysedge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/gifts).



Her hand’s not getting worse.

It isn’t.

It can’t be, because you won, you beat the baddies, all of you together, happy ending just like in the songs (well. The songs that don’t end in everyone dying) and time has gone by and everything’s good. Even being here is good. Orlais is full of rich tits but also offers up many opportunities for pie-in-their-face, and Josie is so busy and happy she’s glowing with it. Cullen’s dog is slobbery but all right, the Chargers are almost like having six Jennies around, and Dorian’s back, lounging in the sun all here and real and talking your ear off about Tevinty bullshit. It’s summer, long hot days perfect for pranks and finding out who’s bonking who in the palace shrubbery, for spilled beer and flowers.

There were so many flowers. You told Josie where she could shove her froofy dress, but you said Fine to the flowers and there were so many they spilled all over the balcony, and you were mad you hadn’t thought of doing that because she loved it, she laughed so delighted and picked up an armful to throw all over both of you til you were sneezy and giggly. The green glow of her hand made the white petals look sickly but you didn’t pay it any notice. 

It’s not getting worse.

She says, “It shouldn’t be a problem, now that we’re married, but I had Josephine draw up some documents anyway.”

“What,” you say, distracted from drawing bees on the tops of her big hairy feet. 

“I’ve got a lot of stuff,” she says. “People keep giving it to me. You’re my wife, so… you’ll get it. Orlesian Council of whatever bastards will try to grab it, Josephine says, but she’s not going to let that happen.”

You drop the charcoal, then pick it up again to throw it at her stupid face. “Shut up,” you say. “Shut up! Is that-” No, no, you’re not going to stupid cry. “Is that why you said yes? So I’d get your stuff? I’ve got my own stuff! I don’t want your stupid stuff!” 

Her face isn’t ruddy like usual, you unwillingly notice. It’s pale, her little face tightly drawn. She’s in pain. You hate the world. You hate the Maker. There’s so many flowers in your room and everything was supposed to be happy. 

“It’s important to me,” she says, and you can’t pretend you don’t understand. She was Carta, and you’ve learned about that, since you met her, learned from Varric about family and looking after each other. You can’t say that’s stupid, when it’s not stupid to her. But you’re so angry. 

“Maybe we can fix this,” she says. “But if we can’t, I want you to be all right.” 

“Not going to happen,” you say, and pick up one of the flowers, and start tearing it to shreds. 

  
  



End file.
